


hold your horses

by bloominsummer



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Minor Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22290136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: Seungkwan wonders why every time someone asks Hansol whether they're dating, the answer is always, "Not yet." accompanied by a knowing smile. Even though Hansol shows no signs of wanting to ask him out in the near future, if ever.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 32
Kudos: 624





	hold your horses

**Author's Note:**

> happy (belated) birthday to one of my first loves in svt :')))

** [1] **

The first time it happens, they’re studying in the library. At least Hansol is doing some actual studying, Seungkwan has been distracted for the past half an hour, absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread from the sleeve of Hansol’s sweater until it’s completely detached from the clothing. The younger man pays him no mind, he just continues flipping through his notes to help him answer the practice questions opened in front of him.

It’s Chan who finally breaks, abandoning his Calculus assignment to pose a question to the two of them. ”Okay, what’s going on with you two?"

"Hmm?" Seungkwan releases Hansol's left hand from his after successfully tying the thread around his pinky finger, forming a ring.

"Are you two dating?"

He flusters at the sudden question, scooting away from Hansol who looks up from his book, frowning. The frown is directed at Seungkwan, though, like Chan isn’t the one who just asked him an inappropriate question. 

“No,” Seungkwan says finally, avoiding Hansol’s eyes.

The thought had crossed his minds many times, of course, but since the night they met during their freshman year, Hansol has never expressed any kind of romantic interest toward him. And Seungkwan… well, Seungkwan would much rather keep him as a friend then lose their relationship over something silly like a crush. It’s probably not a secret. He’s pretty sure Jeonghan knows, if the looks he’s been sending his way are any indication. Then again, Jeonghan knows pretty much everything about everyone, so maybe he doesn’t count.

As long as Hansol doesn’t know, it’s all good. 

Except—

"Not yet," Hansol corrects him softly and Seungkwan's jaw drops.

What did he just say? 

Chan presses on, curiosity barely contained in his expression. "Why not yet?"

Seungkwan, despite himself, finds that he wants to know the answer to that question too. But all Hansol does is grin before reaching out to ruffle Chan's hair and telling him, "I'll let you know when you're older." 

Pouting, Chan begins to word vomit about how no one in their group takes him seriously because he’s the youngest, although he’s pretty sure he’s mentally more mature than Seungcheol, the eldest. The conversation steers into a different direction entirely within a minute.

“Study now,” Hansol tells him pointedly after he successfully shifts Chan’s attention back to his assignment.

Seungkwan whines, “I can’t. This is too hard.”

“Hey, there’s _nothing_ you can’t do. But first, you have to try.”

Hansol squeezes his shoulder in reassurance before returning to his own work, and that's that.

** [2] **

It doesn’t happen again for a long time, so Seungkwan can pretend that it never did in the first place. The illusion breaks when they got roped into helping Mingyu move out from his old place and into Wonwoo’s on a particularly humid day. 

Seungkwan’s just straightening his back after setting down Mingyu’s TV on the floor, next to Wonwoo’s gaming paraphernalia. He lifts his shirt to wipe at the line of sweat trailing the side of his face. Then he stretches his hands above his head, standing at the tip of his toes, before turning his body around to crack his back—only to find Hansol staring at him from across the living room, a barely concealed smile on his face.

Raising his eyebrows, he silently communicates with Hansol. _What?_

Hansol shakes his head. _Nothing_. But he keeps on looking at Seungkwan, who is starting to feel fire ants crawling underneath his skin from the intensity of his gaze. 

”Yah, stop making eyes at each other and help me with this," Mingyu grumbles as he walks through the door, hauling a huge box of his winter clothes with much difficulty. 

Wonwoo chuckles from one of the rooms, presumably having heard Mingyu whine. The deep rumbling makes Mingyu's ears perk in excitement and he goes off to find the source of the sound. Just like a puppy who’s heard his owner’s voice after being left alone for the whole day. 

Finally, Hansol takes his eyes off Seungkwan and wordlessly walks out to get the rest of Mingyu’s stuff out of the car. 

They take longer than expected to sort everything out, mostly because Mingyu keeps getting unnecessarily defensive when Wonwoo points out the quirkiest, unexplainable items in his possessions. His canines were on display the entire day though, Seungkwan wonders if his cheeks will ache from the excessive strain he’s been putting on his facial muscles.

As the new host and co-owner of the humble abode, Mingyu treats them all to dinner—delivery from the nearest BBQ house since he refuses to shower without Wonwoo and Wonwoo’s kind enough not to accept the proposition with Seungkwan and Hansol still in close proximity. 

“Plans for tonight?” Wonwoo asks lightly once they’ve laid some newspaper on the floor and unpacked the boxes of food on top of them. The dining table is full with stuff that none of them can be bothered to move, so they’re making the best out of the small empty plot of the floor in the kitchen. 

Wonwoo reaches across Seungkwan for a piece of bulgogi. “It’s Friday. Date night?” 

He looks over at Hansol when Seungkwan fails to reply. Hansol, who much to Seungkwan’s disbelief, answers him with, “We’re not dating yet.”

Seungkwan’s hand still over his rice. His grip on the chopsticks tightens and he can feel Mingyu’s eyes on him. Watching, observing, noting down the smallest details he can catch for future discussion. He forces himself to relax—luckily Wonwoo didn’t see him tense up and neither did Hansol.

“I see,” Wonwoo comments, but he doesn’t push the matter. Seungkwan is somewhat grateful to him for it. 

They eat in silence after that, the only sounds filling the place is Mingyu’s exaggerated moans around his food. At the end of the night, his hyung hugs him a little too tightly for it to just be a thank-you-for-helping-me-move hug. Seungkwan ignores him, merely swats at his bulky arms when they pull apart to let him know that it’s fine, he’s fine. 

Hansol walks him back to his dorm and Seungkwan fights the urge to reach out and link their fingers together.

** [3] **

Bowling is supposed to be fun. It’s fun when Hansol leads their team with his continuous strikes—because of course he gets to look the way he does and be good at everything he sets his mind to—while Seungkwan is doing his best not to throw any gutter balls. It’s fun when Jihoon teases Soonyoung for talking a big game and not actually following through with his words. What isn’t so much fun is: Soonyoung watching the way Seungkwan leans into Hansol intently before trying to make a typical move on his boyfriend—only to be shot down instantly. 

Seungkwan catches his hyung’s face crumble and winces, feeling the pain within himself.

”I agreed to a double-date but you're pushing it, Soonyoung." Jihoon removes his boyfriend's arm from around his shoulder gingerly, but the look Soonyoung is wearing is as if Jihoon had slapped him hard across the face with brass knuckles he brought from the harsh streets of Busan.

"I don't get it." He shakes his head, voice a little too quiet for his usual boisterous self. Seungkwan can't even butt in to ask _What double date?_ because he knows they're steering into dangerous territory. He leans away from Hansol, ready to intercept his two hyungs if the situation calls for it. "I can't even do this?" 

"Can't you wait until we're alone?" Jihoon bites back, annoyed. 

"Why? Because you're ashamed to be seen with me in public?" Soonyoung stands up from his seat, his face red from either embarrassment or anger. Seungkwan stands too, puts his hand on Soonyoung's arm. The older man shrugs him off easily. 

"It feels like I'm forcing you into things. If you don't want to be with me, you shouldn't have agreed to date me. This is just shitty, Jihoon." 

Seungkwan glances back at Hansol, but he's only watching the conversation unravel with keen eyes, not showing any intention of interrupting the flow. Shit. He could really use some back up here, none of which Hansol is interested in offering.

“Sorry,” Jihoon answers in a rushed breath once he sees how upset Soonyoung is getting. “Soonyoungie, I'm sorry." 

Soonyoung’s face falls for a split second before he schools his expression back to neutral, then he says, "Okay. I'm going."

“Wait—” Jihoon stands up too, so now all of them are standing up, save for Hansol who’s _still_ leaning back into his seat, totally unbothered by his friends literally fighting three feet away from him. _What is wrong with him?_ “Where?”

“Wherever."

He manages a step away from his boyfriend before Jihoon calls out to him, voice steady. ”Soonyoung.”

“What?" Soonyoung still turns to Jihoon despite how hurt he must be feeling and Seungkwan thinks if that isn’t love, then nothing is. 

His body language doesn’t hide his emotions, though, because from the way shoulders are drawn in and his mouth is curved downward, Seungkwan can tell. He’s known Soonyoung for way too long to miss the signs.

Jihoon, however, says nothing in return. Instead, he grabs the collar of Soonyoung's nicest dress shirt and drags his face down to his. The shorter man leans up quickly, his movements natural, and crashes his lips on Soonyoung’s. Seungkwan almost falls down on his ass when he sees Jihoon’s tongue slips out of his own mouth and into Soonyoung’s. The kiss itself is harsh, almost like they’re bringing their fight into it, but Soonyoung’s hands on the small of Jihoon’s back are careful, placed with extreme caution like he’s handling an exquisite art piece he had loaned from a museum.

His knees wobbling, Seungkwan flops back onto his seat. Hansol chuckles next to him like he’s expected things to turn out this way right from the beginning.

Someone wolf-whistles at them from a couple of lanes down and Jihoon breaks away from the kiss, though his hands stay where they are, palms smoothening over the column of Soonyoung’s neck. Seungkwan turns away from them and fixes his eyes on Hansol instead. He figures whatever they’re about to share in the following moments is intimate and should probably be reserved for the two of them alone.

Jihoon’s voice is quiet, but he can still hear his words clearly. “‘m sorry. It’s just—my heart won’t listen to what I want when I’m around you.” Hansol’s eyes peer into his and Seungkwan knows from the bright twinkle in them that he can hear them, too.

“It’s always beating so damn hard, I’m afraid I’m going to go into cardiac arrest, okay?”

Seungkwan identifies the high-pitched sound filling the air as Soonyoung’s laugh. He shakes his head a little because his hyung sounds like a real dolphin put on loudspeaker. 

“Mine too,” Soonyoung admits after his laughter subsides.

“What?”

“My heart, too. It’s like— wilding around you or something.”

Hansol stifles a snort at that, but the corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and Seungkwan is reminded of the night they met. 

He had spent a good part of that eventful night fussing over Soonyoung who, in turn, was puking the entire content of his stomach out in Seokmin’s bathroom. There was a party—Seungkwan’s not so sure in what occasion anymore—and Soonyoung had just broken up with his good-for-nothing ex whose name Seungkwan had deliberately erased from memory. Of course, the older’s natural coping mechanism was to drown his sorrows in alcohol. 

So when someone knocked on the door urgently, Seungkwan had barked at them. “Bathroom’s occupied! Go find someplace else to bang.”

But whoever was on the other side didn’t get the hint and kept on knocking until Seungkwan swung the door open. For the record, it was the first time he’d ever seen someone as beautiful as him, so he was at loss for words the first few seconds.

“Sorry. I just have a really bad headache from the loud music and—can I hide in here?”

Seungkwan could only nod dumbly and step aside to let him in. “Ignore him,” he cocked his head in Soonyoung’s direction. “He’s going through some post break-up shit.”

“Is he okay?” the stranger actually looked concerned.

“He will be. Better off without his asshole ex.”

The following silence was awkward. “You said you had a headache?” Seungkwan piped quietly after a short while.

Soonyoung’s sleeping with his head on the toilet bowl and Seungkwan didn’t want to think about how gross it was, but he couldn’t risk moving him if Soonyoung suddenly wanted to vomit again. What else could he do besides start a conversation with the other boy?

“Yeah. Just—not a good night.”

“People have said I give the best head massage.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Seungkwan shrugged. “Do I look like I have better things to do?”

His eyes crinkled in amusement at Seungkwan’s retort and Seungkwan decided that he liked the shape of the other’s smile, how it manifested not only on the curve of his lips but also in his eyes. 

“Thanks.” He scooted closer to Seungkwan. “Feels like I should know your name if you’re going to give me a free massage.”

“It’s Seungkwan.”

“Seungkwan,” he repeated and Seungkwan decided he liked the way his name sounds rolling off the other’s tongue, too. “I’m Hansol.”

“Hansol,” Seungkwan echoed, not knowing he’d be saying that name over and over again with an increasing amount of affection attached to it over the next couple of years.

The scene just flashed through his mind for what feels like a second, but when he comes to, Hansol is waving his hand in front of his face, looking a little worried.

“What?”

“You spaced out,” he states the obvious.

“Oh. Oops. I think Jihoon-hyung traumatised me.”

Jihoon smiles at him sheepishly. Seungkwan realises they’re already sitting down again, except this time Jihoon’s holding Soonyoung’s arm over his middle. “Sorry, Seungkwan-ah.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a little smooching,” Soonyoung protests, despite the obvious fact that his previous action falls nowhere near the category of _a little smooching_. “You two should move this courting plan along and get on board with the rest of us.”

Hansol’s response sounds automated, like an answering machine. “Not yet, hyung.”

Clucking his tongue in disapproval, Soonyoung gives him a pointed look. “Ah. Fine. Don’t be too long, so you can join us on the fun soon, yeah?”

Jihoon barks out a laugh at that. “You sound like you’re propositioning something I’m not going to say out loud so I won’t traumatise Seungkwan any more than I already have.”

“Like an orgy?”

Seungkwan feels like passing out.

“Stop it, Soonyoung. You’re torturing him.” He pushes his boyfriend up from his seat. “Go ball. It’s your turn.”

“You know, there’s a dirty joke in there somewhere…” Soonyoung trails off, winking at Jihoon as he goes to play his turn.

Jihoon watches him go with hearts coming out of his eyes and Seungkwan thinks that it’s love, too. That good-for-nothing ex of Soonyoung’s just a stumbling block on his way to the real thing and he’s glad his hyung successfully moved past it.

** [4] **

During the semester break, Seungkwan takes the first few days of his holiday to visit Hansol’s family in Gwangju before returning to his parents’ welcoming arms in home sweet home Jeju. Seungkwan likes Hansol’s family a lot and if his head is allowed to be on the clouds for a moment, he’d say they adore him just as much. His mom’s always giving Seungkwan the meatiest piece of ribs at dinner, Hangyeol drags him all around the place and asks him to sing for her. Hansol’s dad is a little bit more private, but he clapped Seungkwan on the back once, hard enough to make him cough up a lung. It felt like some sort of victory.

They’re hanging out at the park because it’s a warm, sunny day and Hangyeol’s wearing a bright yellow dress that makes her shine so bright Seungkwan has to squint when he looks at her. Hansol is somewhere to their left, running around with some lady from the neighbourhood’s Pomeranian.

“Oppa, don’t you have something to say to me?”

Seungkwan hands her the bottle of mixed fruit juice he’s been holding. “Hmm? Like what?”

“Really?” She rolls her eyes at him, but accepts the bottle gracefully. 

“What?” Seungkwan laughs, endeared at how much she resembles Hansol at times like these. From the quiet flare in their eyes down to the jutting out of their chin, the Chwe siblings trademark annoyed expression is eerily identical. “What is it? Is it about your cover? Because I’m running out of words to explain how moved I was by it, Hangyeollie.”

A flush creeps to her cheeks. “No, oppaaaa.” She crosses his arms across his chest. “Like if you and Hansol-oppa started dating, for example.”

The thing is, he’s been leaning back on his elbows the entire time, head tilted upward to absorb the vitamin D from the sun while hoping the sunscreen he put on his face before was enough to protect his delicate complexion. At the ease with which Hangyeol puts the possibility on the table, Seungkwan loses his composure along with the strength in his arms. 

He drops his body back onto the ground with a loud thud.

“Oppa?” Hangyeol’s voice comes into his ears, worry evident in her tone.

“I’m okay,” Seungkwan reassures her, but he doesn’t plan on getting up any time soon. “We’re not—” he starts, though he’s cut off when Hansol comes into his line of sight.

The younger’s face is hovering upside down above his, so close that their noses are almost touching. 

“You okay?” Seungkwan pushes him by the shoulders to no avail. Hansol remains unmoving. “Woah, your freckles are so pretty.” 

Exasperated, Seungkwan rolls to his left in an attempt to avoid him, but Hansol’s reflexes are simply too quick. He spins himself the other way around and Seungkwan finds his head caged in between Hansol’s arms.

They’re at a family park, for God’s sake. Why can’t Seungkwan catch a damn break?

“Move,” he snaps, but he makes sure he does it quietly so Hangyeol won’t catch his word.

It ends up coming out a little harsh, because Hansol’s playfulness disappears from his features almost instantly and he releases Seungkwan. “Sorry,” he tells Seungkwan, scratching the back of his neck. Seungkwan sits up from his previous horizontal position and refuses to look at him. “Hey, I’m sorry,” Hansol says again, stubborn.

“Oppa, juice?” Hangyeol offers her brother, still oblivious to what’s happening.

To be honest, Seungkwan doesn’t fully understand either. Is he angry because everyone keeps insinuating that there’s something going on between the two of them? No, that can’t be it, because he actually _wants_ something to happen between the two of them. Maybe he’s upset that Hansol keeps acting like something is about to happen, but never actually does anything. It’s almost like he’s giving Seungkwan hope and crushing it at the same time. Yeah. It’s probably that.

It’s definitely that.

“Thanks,” Hansol takes the bottle from her and presses it on Seungkwan’s forearm, making him jump from the cold temperature. “Hey, you.”

Seungkwan glares at him, unyielding, until Hansol gives up and turns to the other, less hostile conversation partner.

“What were you talking about?” Hansol asks his sister, who looks at Seungkwan and quirks an eyebrow, as if asking his permission. 

Shrugging, Seungkwan lets her do what she wants. 

“I was just asking Seungkwan-oppa if you’ve asked him out yet.”

The scene is supposed to turn a little dramatic here. The bottle of juice is supposed to slip from Hansol’s grasp and spill onto the small blanket they’ve spread out over the grass so Hangyeol’s dress won’t turn a nasty green colour. Hansol’s eyes are supposed to widen, his cheek coloured scarlet, his speech all stuttered because of his nerves.

None of that happened. Instead, Hansol just says, “Not yet,” like he always does and this time Seungkwan tells himself to stop wondering when the waiting will end. 

He tells himself to stop waiting altogether.

** [5] **

“What’s with the frown?” Soonyoung nudges him with a beer bottle. “Exam’s over, Kwannie. Cheer up!”

Seungkwan’s fingers skirt over the mouth of his own bottle. He’s not feeling it tonight. He’s not feeling it every night, especially not nights when Hansol dresses up like he knows he can have anyone he wants. With his hair slicked back, a silver chain hanging around his neck and his all-black attire. Like, that’s practically an open invitation for vultures. Might as well carry around a big banner that says, _hey I’m hot and available._

“Just not in the mood, hyung.”

“Fighting with Hansol?”

Shaking his head, Seungkwan tells him _no_ quietly. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right? Hell, I tell you pretty much everything. Have I told you about the thing Jihoon does with his tong—” Seungkwan slaps a hand over his mouth and feels Soonyoung grinning against his palm.

“Yes, you have,” he says through gritted teeth. If he has to hear about his other hyung’s oral skills one more time he might actually be compelled to throw himself into oncoming traffic. “Sometimes I wish we have boundaries, but we definitely don’t. So yeah, I know I can tell you anything.”

Soonyoung lets out a happy laugh and ruffles Seungkwan’s hair before he bounces off to the dance floor to look for his boyfriend. Hansol is still chatting animatedly with Mingyu by the bar, Wonwoo working behind the counter as he always does on Saturday nights. He settles with watching Hansol from afar until Seokmin slides into the booth next to him and follows his line of sight.

“What’s up?” he asks, sipping his ice tea. 

  
Designated driver, Seungkwan notes. He’ll make sure to find Seokmin when he inevitably gets hammered by the end of the night.

“Do you think Hansol likes me?”

Seokmin chokes on his reusable straw. 

“Okay,” Seungkwan huffs, resting his chin on the wooden table, “you didn’t need to be that mean.”

“No— _no_. That was a surprised choke, as in, _wow, he finally notices it_.” 

“Now you’re just teasing me.”

Suddenly serious, Seokmin settles his glass on the table and looks Seungkwan in the eyes as he tells him, “Prawn crackers.” 

Now, to any other person, those two words wouldn’t make sense. It wouldn’t have made sense to Seungkwan either if anyone beside Seokmin had said it to him, but he knows that the older is being truthful with him because that’s their codeword. They developed it one night in high school, when Seokmin’s about to graduate and Seungkwan’s about to be left behind for better, less boring college guys. 

They went to karaoke and Seungkwan almost cried when Seokmin told him, _You’re my best friend. I love you more than these damn prawn crackers, I won’t trade you for anything. Trust me, okay? I swear it. On these prawn crackers. These prawn crackers can be our always._

And those prawn crackers are shitty, if Seungkwan’s being honest, but Seokmin loves them so much sometimes they would spend more on those crackers than they do on the room fee. 

“Why do you think he hasn’t asked me out?”

Seokmin considers his question. “I think that’s a question you’d have to ask him. Anyway, why are you waiting? You can always ask _him_ out.”

Ah.

Yes, he supposes he can do that.

“You give much better advice than Soonyoung-hyung,” he tells Seokmin.

“That is in no way a compliment to me,” Seokmin deadpans, then they laugh together. 

They talk about random things until Hansol comes over to them, at which point Seokmin leaves the two of them with a wink directed at Seungkwan. 

“Having fun?”

_Much more now that you’re here_.

Seungkwan nods in reply and Hansol offers him his signature grin—which is just _breathtaking_. Seungkwan has to tame his heart rate when Hansol runs his fingers through his dark hair, totally unaware of the effect he has on Seungkwan. Unfortunately, the people around them are also exposed to his charms. No one’s immune, even though Seungkwan wishes he’s the only one who can see Hansol like this. 

“Hansollie,” he begins, pulse quickening on the inside of his wrists. 

“Yeah?”

He opens his mouth, ready to speak the words into existence, when a pretty girl comes waddling over to them, gaze fixated on Hansol. 

“Hi,” she says to Hansol, who’s torn between looking at her and keeping his eyes on Seungkwan. 

Hansol eventually turns to her and Seungkwan grips the edge of his seat tight.

“I was wondering if you’re here with someone, and if not, would you like to dance with me?”

The question is relatively harmless and she’s being polite about it, too. There is literally nothing that should make him upset, except Hansol hesitates before giving her an answer and whatever courage Seokmin injected into his veins disappears just like _that_. 

“He’s not with anyone,” Seungkwan answers for Hansol, tone sickeningly sweet. The girl turns to him in surprise, like she didn’t realise he was sitting there the entire time. Not that Seungkwan blames her, he wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything but Hansol, either. “And he’d absolutely love to dance with you,” he adds for good measure.

The girl bows to him slightly in gratitude, then continues to beam at Hansol expectantly. Hansol’s no longer looking at her, though, his face is all scrunched up in confusion. Seungkwan smiles at him, not giving a single damn if it doesn’t reach his eyes, and pushes himself off the booth. He hears Soonyoung calling him as he slips out through the door, but doesn’t stop. 

“Seungkwan.” He hears as he’s walking down the street.

That voice isn’t Soonyoung’s.

“Hey! Seungkwannie. Boo Seungkwan, yah, where are you going?”

“Home,” Seungkwan replies without turning around. Hansol is still trailing behind him, close but not barely close enough.

“Okay, I’ll take you home.”

Seungkwan halts in his steps. Hansol stops, too, and he can easily catch up to him, throw his arms around Seungkwan and poke his cheek until Seungkwan anger dissipates—but he doesn’t. “No.”

“It’s late and—I don’t want you to walk alone at night.”

“No,” Seungkwan says again and Hansol lets out a tired sigh. 

“You’re upset,” Hansol notes. 

He holds back on going off at him right there and then, because what did Hansol _want_? A congratulation for correctly guessing how he’s feeling? When he’s the root of the problem in the first place? Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Seungkwan tries to remember the method to control his breathing that his vocal coach had taught him many moons ago. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He turns around this time. “ _Not yet_.”

Hansol reels from his reply, taking a step backwards like Seungkwan just physically pushed him. Seungkwan turns his back on him again and starts walking away—this time Hansol doesn’t follow.

** [+1] **

Three days. That’s how long he lasts not talking to Hansol. Hansol sends him no texts, leaves him no voice messages, but Soonyoung told him that Hansol’s been asking about him non-stop. If he’s eating well, if he’s drinking his vitamins, if he’s sleeping enough. Soonyoung also told him that Hansol looked like he wasn’t doing any of the things he had asked about Seungkwan.

So on the third day, he finds himself knocking at Hansol’s door. His roommate, Minghao, opens the door. Seungkwan hears him mutter a _finally_ , like his presence is expected and long-awaited. He asks him what he means by that and Minghao just tells him he _needs_ Hansol to stop moping around because it’s ruining the vibes of their entire floor. 

Minghao ushers him into Hansol’s room where they find him sleeping. Not wanting to disrupt his rest, Seungkwan takes off his jacket and climbs in bed next to him, pulling Hansol’s blanket over the two of them. He closes his eyes and tries to drift off, but sleep won’t take him under and the fact that Hansol’s face is only a couple inches away from him makes it all the bit harder. Hansol eventually wakes up after an hour or so, blinking sleepily a couple of times before smiling, an index finger reached out to trail a path from Seungkwan’s forehead to his nose, then down to his lips. 

Seungkwan unconsciously puckers his lips when Hansol’s finger touches them.

Hansol takes his hand back so quickly he smacks himself across the face. 

_Ouch_.

“Wait,” Hansol croaks out, voice rough from sleep. “You’re real.”

“What?”

He digs the palm of his hands into his eyes, blinking a couple more times before his gaze meets Seungkwan’s. “I thought I was dreaming.”

“You thought you dreamt of me in your bed and your first instinct was to caress my face?”

It sounds even more ridiculous now that he’s said it out loud, but Seungkwan can’t help the giddy feeling that surfaces within him. He also can’t help that there’s still that small, bitter voice at the back of his mind that tells him they’re not together. _Not yet_.

“Hansollie.”

A soft, “Yeah,” in return.

“What if I want to start dating?”

Hansol gulps at the question. Seungkwan’s gaze flicks downward as he watches Hansol’s Adam’s apple move in accordance. “Right now?”

“Is there a reason not to?”

“Well, yeah…?” Hansol trails off, hesitant.

Seungkwan softly prods him to continue, because if Hansol has a reason then he wants to understand it. Maybe that way it will be easier for him to wait. And he will wait, he can wait, for Hansol. He’ll wait as long as it takes. “Which is?” 

But Hansol turns the table around and points the arrow at him. “You said you wanted to wait until graduation.”

He leans back a little so he can get a good look of Hansol’s face. He finds no evidence that the younger is messing with him, but he also has no recollection whatsoever of having a conversation regarding their relationship with Hansol. Unless he suffered from short-term memory loss, he’s sure that’s a conversation he wouldn’t have easily forgotten.

“When did I say that?”

“When we first met.”

“When we—what?!” Seungkwan whisper-shouts, jostling the bed in his overreaction.

“Yeah?” Hansol blinks at him innocently, like a stray cat that follows you back home because you gave it some form of affection. “You said you didn’t understand why Soonyoung-hyung even bothered dating and that you wouldn’t want to, at least until you have your degree. _Boys aren’t worthy._ ” He says that last part in a slightly higher pitch, presumably mimicking Seungkwan’s speech. That bit does sound a lot like him.

Slowly, the big picture begins to form in his mind. All the unexplainable things link together to form a coherent flow of thoughts. Seungkwan props himself up on his elbows, leaning over Hansol who adjusts himself to match him until he’s looking up at Seungkwan. 

“Is that why you—you always say _not yet_ when people ask?”

“Um… you look like you’re going to hit me if I say yes, so I’m going to say…no?”

“Hansol.” He slaps a hand on his chest lightly, heart speeding up when Hansol takes it in his, intertwining their fingers. “I’m serious. Really?”

“You did say that. I remember,” he repeats flatly. Seungkwan almost laughs, hysterical. He still doesn’t remember completely, but Hansol isn’t lying—he would be able to tell if he were. What he said happened must have happened, only it’s been two years since then and Hansol still recalls the details of it. “I was just… I was respecting your wishes.”

“You shouldn’t have taken me seriously, oh my God.” He squeezes Hansol’s hand in his. “I was drunk on shitty ciders that night.”

And they’re fine, they are. Seungkwan feels happy, content, warmth spreading from where Hansol’s palm meet his to his entire body. 

But then Hansol speaks again, with such conviction in his voice, “I always take you seriously,” and it burns Seungkwan hotter than he ever thought possible.

Leaning down slowly, Seungkwan bumps their noses together before he kisses Hansol. Just a press of lips on lips. He’s trying it out, seeking their balance, and when Hansol arches up to apply more pressure onto his mouth, Seungkwan finds the courage to open up for him and let him in.

Hansol’s fingers slide into his hair, slow and careful. Seungkwan smiles into the kiss at the sweetness of the gesture, Hansol joining him, and one of them starts giggling until both of them can’t stop.

“I kinda love you,” Hansol tells him when they finally slip back into comfortable silence, hands still latched together.

“Oh good,” Seungkwan jokes to hide the fact that his cheeks are heating up from the confession. “Otherwise this would be super awkward.”

The younger lifts his head up to give Seungkwan a faux-impatient look. Seungkwan knows exactly what he’s searching for: a reciprocation. And since Hansol’s given him so much more, has given him love in so many forms: support, attention, respect—the list can go on forever, truly—Seungkwan decides he can give him this much.

“I kinda love you too.” Biting his lips, he hesitantly adds, “Please date me now.”

“Oh good.” Hansol uses his own words against him. Seungkwan can’t be mad, not really, especially not when he’s on cloud nine and Hansol is the reason behind that euphoria. “I can’t wait to start.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this small offering of a fic :-)
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/bIoominsummer)


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